


Dying is an Art

by Alexandria (heartfullofelves)



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Children of Earth Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Immortality, M/M, Post-Episode: s09e05 The Girl Who Died, Unbury Your Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/pseuds/Alexandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m not here to apologise for him,” she told him. “I’m here to make something right.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying is an Art

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Doctor Who s09e05: The Girl Who Died.

Hands in coat pockets, head bowed, he walked the street alone. True to pathetic fallacy, it was drizzling, but instead of turning up his collar, he let the drops fall down his neck. The rain was the least of his problems. He used his coat sleeve to wipe his eyes, and then his nose. _Ugh, Ianto will hate me for that,_ he thought.

He froze. He inhaled a shuddering breath, but couldn’t release it without a sob rising in his throat. He clutched at his chest, and fell to his knees on the pavement. He struggled for air; he couldn't breathe, couldn’tbreathcouldn’tbreathe.

No-one stopped to ask if he were okay until, what seemed like hours later, there was a click of heels behind him and a tap on his shoulder. He lifted his tearstained face to look at the stranger. He licked his lips and swallowed. “Yes?” It came out as a whisper.

A young-looking brunette stood over him. “You don’t happen to be Captain Jack Harkness, do you?” she asked in a Northern accent.

He stared. “Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Clara,” she replied. “We have a mutual friend who is concerned about your wellbeing.”

“Really.” He frowned.

“Isn’t it a doctor’s job to check on his patients?” The corner of her mouth lifted.

Jack got to his feet, grabbing the girl’s shoulder for balance. “You’re travelling with him.”

“I am.”

He dug his fingers deeper into her leather jacket as he towered over her. “Where was he when I needed him? When the _planet_ needed him?” he demanded, shaking her. “Why wasn’t he here? I needed him, oh gods,” his voice broke, “I needed him.”

She prised his fingers off her. “I’m not here to apologise for him,” she told him. “I’m here to make something right.”

“Oh yeah?” he sneered. “And how are you going to do that?”

She pulled something small out of her pocket and presented it to him, tilting it up so that he could get a better look at the shiny object. “This is a chip from a Mire helmet.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “So?”

“This one in particular is special,” she informed him, unflinching under his cold scrutiny. “It’s been modified to heal people. To bring them back to life.”

He thought he glimpsed a flash of pain cross her face, but he ignored it in favour of his own. “That so?” he asked, heartbeat quickening.

“The thing is, it heals so well that it takes away their ability to die.”

His lips parted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. He gazed at her, mute.

“The Doctor said,” she continued, “that immortality isn’t living forever, it’s everyone else dying.”

Before Jack could reply, she grabbed his hand and placed the chip in his palm, closing his fingers over it. “I don’t know who your person you can’t bear to lose is, captain, and it doesn’t matter to me, but make sure they know how you feel, alright?”

He stuffed his hand into his coat pocket, fingering the chip. “You’ve lost someone,” he observed.

“Yes.”

“And the Doctor didn’t save them.”

“No.”

He put his other hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “I should go.”

“Okay.” He exhaled and said again, “Okay. Thank you.” He’d never before meant the words as much as he did now.

“You’re welcome.” She forced a smile and began to walk away.

“Wait, Clara?” he called. “Why did he send you? Why didn’t he give it to me himself?”

She turned back. “He didn’t think you’d be very receptive if he showed his face now.”

“Ha,” he half laughed, half scoffed. “Damn right. I’d have probably killed him.”

Crossing her arms against her chest, she nodded. “That’s not hard to believe. I’ve wanted to kill him several times myself. He’s just got one of those personalities.”

Jack smirked, and agreed.

“Well then,” she chirped. “I’d best be off. Nice meeting you, captain.”

“Likewise, Clara.” He managed a genuine smile that showed off his pearly whites. “Maybe you’ll see me again sometime.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Wow, he wasn’t lying about your ego.”

“It’s not something people tend to lie about,” he countered. Then he wrapped his arms around her. “Bye then.”

“Goodbye,” she replied, voice muffled against his broad chest, “and good luck.”

“Thanks.”

He watched as she clip-clopped away, and didn’t feel the slightest bit jealous that she was with the Doctor.

* * *

Jack knelt beside the body and placed the Mire chip over the still heart. He held his breath, waiting, as it was absorbed into the body. Had he done it right? Was the body fresh enough for it to work, cold and stiff as it was? Had the girl he’d met told the truth? Could he condemn someone else to the same eternity he faced?

The gasp, coupled with the opening of a blue pair of eyes, was deafening in the quiet room.

“It worked,” Jack sighed in relief as he helped the resuscitated man sit up.

“Jack?” asked Ianto, blinking and stretching his limbs to get the blood flowing again, wincing at the pins and needles sensation. Boy, did Jack know how _that_ felt.

He pulled Ianto to his feet and held him close for a long moment, able to breathe once more. “Welcome back.” Then, cupping Ianto’s cheek, Jack pressed their lips together, savouring the slowness and depth of the kiss with closed eyes like he had all the time in the world.

Too soon, Ianto pulled back, but he kept grasping Jack’s upper arms. “Wait. I died, Jack, what’s going on?”

Jack slid his hands down from Ianto’s upper back to his waist. “The Doctor, or rather his companion Clara, gave me a modified chip from a Mire helmet that healed you.”

“Mire? What’s that?” Ianto frowned.

“I… don’t know,” Jack admitted.

“You don’t know,” repeated Ianto with a doubtful raise of his eyebrow.

Jack shrugged. “All I wanted was to get you back, I didn’t ask for details.”

Ianto huffed. “So you brought me back to life.”

“I thought we’d established that.” Jack smiled, reaching to brush Ianto’s cheek with the tips of his fingers. “The chip brought you back, only there’s a slight catch.”

Ianto’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his eyes darkened. “What?” he murmured.

“It’s kind of permanent.”

Ianto stared. “You mean…?”

“I mean, Ianto Jones,” Jack said, sparkling eyes fixed on his lover’s, “that we have forever.”

Ianto’s smile was more beautiful than any sunset Jack had ever seen.


End file.
